


A Strange Incarnation

by SilverKatt



Category: Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverKatt/pseuds/SilverKatt
Summary: As the chosen Hero, Link is destined to be re-incarnated many lifetimes over to fight Ganondorf, among other embodiments of evil. However, in this life, the two encounter one another earlier than fate may have intended, potentially diverting their paths from destiny.*Unfortunately, I have not played every Zelda game, and I may twist some of the lore to suit the story, so if you're extremely dedicated to the lore, you may find this story frustrating*
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	1. Strange Child

_It would be so easy to kill the child,_ the dark man mused, gaze fixed on the tiny creature as it scampered across the sands. He was unsure why he felt the urge to end the grinning boy, but it felt _right._ This child, who had likely not yet seen his fifth year and seemed incapable of speech, set off an instinct for retaliation he had not felt since his first battle with a Molduga, well over ten years past. Despite the foolishness of the instinct, he might have been inclined to follow through, were it not for...

"What should we do with him, My Lord?" Kasout inquired, pulling her attention from the child. She had clearly already taken a liking to him, and varying levels of fondness flickered in the expressions of his other guards. 

It would be beyond stupid for the future king to murder a helpless child before his people, especially as he could offer no explanation. He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and push the urge to the edge of his mind, though it still whispered.

 _If you don't now, you will regret it._ The voice was his own, yet it did not feel as though the thought arose naturally within his mind. When he removed his gaze from the child and focused on Kasout, it was quieter.

"If he will not tell us his name, or the name of his family, all we can do is escort him to the nearest village outside of the desert." He paused, awaiting the contradiction.

"You know...we cannot leave the desert, My Lord," Kasout responded, glancing away. He gritted his teeth, arms trembling. Cursed Faukuri! She placed limitations without explanation, despite her awareness of her dwindling power. Within the year, her claim to rulership would fade, and she would answer for this meaningless binding against him!

"I am aware. You and Ugoam can find the child a home, then," he forced out. 

"I am sorry, My Lord, but I cannot do that."

The day was coming, ever sooner, where none could deny his orders. But today was not that day, and if he lost his temper now, that day may never come. He opened his mouth for his final offer -- then they could leave the child here in the desert, and see what happens! Most likely, and most preferably, he'd die out here, shriveled by the sun. 

But then he caught the expressions of his people once again. Kasout was truly concerned for the boy, and the others had also clearly formed some attachment to the thing. The man sighed, then straightened.

"Child!" he yelled, startling everyone in the group. The boy stumbled over the brittle stick he carried, snapping it in two with the ease in which his own body might break. "I ask again, what is your name?" 

The boy paused, opened his mouth as if to respond, then snapped his jaw shut and gazed forlornly at his broken stick. 

"Do you have a family nearby, which you may have been separated from while crossing the desert?" he pressed. 

Again, the boy remained silent, but his time he shook his head once. At least that was sort of an answer, but it only enraged the man further. The boy was not mute; he had been shouting while playing just a few minutes ago. And with his denial, it was clear he understood language, so he could not claim dumbness as an excuse. He was just stubborn, in the way only a naive child could be. With his neck broken, that bright gleam in his eyes would fade to satisfying emptiness, and his silence would be explained. 

No.

_Fool._

"Do you have anywhere to go?" he asked his final question, knowing the answer he would receive and hating it. If the boy had to keep breathing, he wanted it to be as far from him as possible. The boy stared up, and for a brief moment, a twisted reflection of his anger flickered in his eyes. Then it was gone, and the child shook his head again. 

"Then we will take him back home with us, for the time being," he declared. The words nearly died on his tongue, and he took great pride that his tone was devoid of doubt. He sounded like a king. He was meant to be a king. _The_ king. 

Kasout smiled, though this was clearly the outcome she expected. She clapped her hands together as she moved towards the child.

"You get to see Gerudo Town, little one! Usually outsiders are discouraged, and men especially, but you'll be traveling with the Lord, and you're so young, so you'll be an exception! I hope you're ready for a fun trip!" She turned back towards her future king, eyes clouded. "Sarqso, My Lord. The desert is dangerous, especially for a child."

"I promise no harm will befall him while he's under my care." The words were wrong. Harm should be the child's destiny; the most permanent form of harm. Why had he spoken those words? Now, even if the child died by accident in the desert, he would be a failure to his people. He must be more careful, but there was no taking this oath back.

_Fool. Fool! Setting up your own downfall! What is one promise, when you have the power to break it?_

The power to break his promise said nothing of his power to face the consequences, which he lacked. He reached out the boy, ignoring his stiffening limbs, and tried to adopt a friendly expression. The boy shied away, grasping for Kasout's hand. She blinked, then threw her head back and laughed. 

Her disrespect brought a chuckle to the man as well, and he was grateful he didn't have to touch the boy. "I suppose it's your task to watch him for now, Kasout," he commanded, regaining his composure and silencing her giggles. "I may be a bit too intimidating for this child, and he is yet unable to understand my kindness."

"Indeed, My Lord," Kasout agreed. "Now, we have wasted enough time on the edge of our territory, and we've gathered enough from the ruins. Shall we return home?"

The man nodded, turning to his horse as his guards turned to theirs. Kasout placed the boy in front of her, providing instructions to hold on tight and not squirm. The boy seemed ecstatic to sit atop a horse, and the man glanced away. The joy seemed to... pure, and it brought that unreasonable surge of disgust when he looked upon it. He urged his horse forward, then paused. Tradition spoke for one guard to ride in front of him, though to the side, in case enemies lay in wait on their path. Usually, Kasout was his front guard, but...

"Hulel!" he shouted at his second most-senior guard. "You take the front guard today!" 

"Yes, My Lord!" she said, pulling ahead of him and picking up speed. As he followed, accompanied by the three other riders, he began to doubt his decision. He did not want to look upon the child one moment longer, but the thought of the boy behind his back made his skin crawl and prickle with an emotion he refused to acknowledge.


	2. Gerudo Town

The rode proudly into town, the man well aware of the stares he gathered. He lived here, but the novelty of his existence would take long to wear away. Tradition said that a man like him should be born every hundred years, but from what he could tell, it had been nearly three hundred since the Gerudo last had a king. Not even their grandmothers had tales of rightful rulers; it had all faded into vague legend generations ago. 

They were unsure how to treat him, but respect was present in every face, all the time. Save Faukuri, and now the boy. They were infuriating. 

"Ugoam," he barked, not glancing back at his guard.

"Yes, My Lord?" 

"Take the artifacts to the vault, now." She paused, torn for a moment, then he heard her gathering the artifacts carried by Livan. She broke away from the group, and the small crowd that had gathered in the street parted for her horse. The easy task was done with. "We'll take the child to Faukuri," he declared, hating that he couldn't yet make the official decision. If they wanted a _boy_ to stay in Gerudo Town, they needed permission from the chief, regardless of the word of the future king. 

"Faukuri's our chief," Kasout murmured to the child, though he still hadn't spoken. "She's _really_ nice, so I'm sure she'll let you stay until we can figure out where you came from." 

Their horses stabled, the man led his guard to the throne room, where Faukuri awaited them. Livan and Hulel strode to either side of him, each a pace behind, while Kasout led the boy along several steps behind. 

The man barely spared the palace guards a glance as he approached the throne room, and he swept away the tapestries dividing the room from the hall with a sweep of his arm.

Faukuri waited for him, perched on a less solid, barely decorated chair a few feet in front of the throne. That, at least, brought him some satisfaction. He'd heard that before he was born, chieftains had sat on the throne meant for the king. At least Faukuri now showed _some_ understanding that true rulership was not meant for her. 

The old Gerudo's hair was streaked with gray, and she had cut most of it off, leaving her lacking the intricate hairstyle she had worn for most of his early life. She gazed wearily at him as he entered, unsurprised and unforgiving. 

"We've returned from the ruins," he announced, unnecessarily. "Our discoveries were plentiful, and I'm certain there is much we can use or sell. Once again, I bring success home with me."

Faukuri nodded slowly. "I thank you for your exploits. Will you be going out again, soon?"

"I would like to go again within two weeks," he agreed. "The ruins to the east have been recleared, for now, but the ruins to the west may hold more secrets. I'll begin preparing when this week is finished, once my guards have had time to rest." Strength coursed through his veins; he could plunder the entire western ruins alone, in this instant, if it got him out of this room and away from Faukuri. Unfortunately, he still had one more task. "However, there is something we found on the edge of the desert, that refuses to tell us how it got there." 

His guards waited outside the throne room, and now he called them in. "Kasout!" She entered, gracefully parting the tapestries as she guided the boy forward. 

Faukuri's face contorted into shock, an expression that looked alien, yet fitting, on her. "This child!" she exclaimed, rising slightly from her chair. "Where did you find him?"

"As I said, he was on the edge of the desert. Although he appears Hylian, I do not know where he comes from, as he refuses to tell me his home or his family," the man reported, feeling the now familiar disgust towards the child growing with each word. 

"And..." Faukuri seemed breathless as her eyes darted from the child to the man, and back again. "You do not know his name?" 

"As I said, he refuses to speak. How would I know his name?" he said. 

"...Of course. I'm sorry, I was simply... startled to see that you've brought a child into town, especially a male. What would you have me do with him?"

"I gave my word he would be safe until we find his home, or wherever he came from," the man replied. "I would like permission to keep him in Gerudo Town, until he tells us where he came from or someone can take him back to Hyrule. Is this acceptable?" 

Faukuri inhaled slowly, expression cloudy and thoughts indecipherable. Finally, she nodded. "The young voe may stay in Gerudo Town."

He knew what must come next; he had asked for a 'favor', and it had been granted. One day, he would be the one being begged for favors, yet today, he must relent. "Sarqso, Faukuri."

She didn't respond, and he whirled around, wincing as his gaze fell once again upon the boy, still clutching his broken stick from the edge of the desert. "Come. It's time to rest." Whether he spoke to Kasout or directly to the child didn't matter, as both followed him out of the throne room. Faukuri's presence bore into his back, and the tapestries flicked back behind him, forming a grateful barrier. 

The echoes of his footsteps were magnified as Livan and Hulel took up their places behind him. "Livan, Hulel, you're dismissed, for the time being. You'll know before I leave town again," he grumbled.

The two split away, down a hallway he rarely took, and now only Kasout and the boy walked behind him. 

"I believe we should feed him, My Lord. And ourselves, of course," she suggested. "If we wait until evening, certainly-"

"If he must be fed, then it should be now. I will not have that child at dinner," he said. "We'll take him to the kitchen, where you and he can eat." 

The child delighted in the offering of steak and voltfruit offered by the cook, and dug in heartily. 

"I wonder when was the last time the poor thing ate?" Kasout murmured, between bites of her own voltfruit. She had passed on the steak. 

"I don't know." The concern in her voice filled him with fury, but he again ignored it. 

"Where are you going to keep him?" she asked, still keeping her voice down. The way the child's long ears were pricked, he might have still heard her. It didn't matter if he overheard, but the idea of the child possessing uncanny hearing only increased the man's discomfort. 

"I will find somewhere," he dismissed. She had no room for a child; she slept in the guards' chambers. Gerudo guards were given the option to spend their nights in their own homes or the guards' chambers, but the most dedicated almost always chose to remain close to the castle. 

"Yes, you will. You promised to take care of him, remember?" Kasout's words carried a warning. His promise was not concluded with their arrival to town, and apparently she counted comfort as part of his oath. 

"Of course. What kind of ruler would I be if I could not take care of a single child?" he asked. "Do not worry about him, Kasout." 

The boy had finished his meal, and he pushed the plate away with a grin and craned his head. His eyes fell upon the cook as she rushed to clear his dishes. 

"Thank you." 

His voice was strong and foreign, different even from the accent of Hylian traders. His voice was that of a child, of that there was no doubt, but something... dangerous lurked beneath. The man shuddered while Kasout beamed.

"Our little one speaks!" she said, rushing to embrace the child. The cook blushed and hurried away. "Here, little one, we say 'Sarqso', instead of 'Thank you'. Can you try saying 'Sarqso' for me?" Kasout instructed. She had taken that tone with her Lord in the past, and he scowled at the thought of his guard regarding him on the same level as a child. 

"Sah-cuso?" the boy attempted. Kasout giggled.

"Not quite, little one. Sarqso. Try again." 

"Sarqso." The word still sounded strange coming from the child's mouth, but he mostly got it right. At Kasout's nod of approval, he bounced to his feet. "Sarqso!" he called in the direction the cook had gone. "Sarqso!" he addressed Kasout. "Sar-" he turned to the man, and sound died on his lips. Good. He should _not_ be speaking Gerudo, even the simplest of phrases. 

"My Lord, what did you do?" Kasout asked. "I think you've scared the poor boy!"

He didn't need to explain himself. He had done nothing, but even if he had, it was none of Kasout's concern. "You may leave now, if you wish. I can find the child somewhere to stay on my own."

Kasout frowned, but to her advantage, did not question him. She bowed slightly, then headed off. The man turned to the boy. His guards were gone, the cook was cleaning in another section of the kitchen, and no one else was around. No eyes upon him, and surely he could come up for a reason for the child's disappearance...

But too many knew of his promise to keep the child safe, and no lie could convince Faukuri. He would not threaten his throne with such a foolish act, not when it was so close. 

"Come," he told the child, leaving no room for argument. "We must find you a place to sleep." He hesitated, glancing back at the boy. "Will you tell me your name now?"

The child had once again fallen mute.


	3. Improper Place

There weren't any rooms available in the palace. Apparently, a caravan of influential Rito merchants were taking up two guest rooms, and the third was occupied by a traveling Gerudo warrior, who rarely returned to Gerudo Town. 

"Well, where else can I keep him?" he demanded. "He must stay within the palace!"

The woman he asked bowed her head. "I do not know, My Lord. The only other rooms attached to the palace are the jail, but-"

"Are they empty?" he snapped, and she nodded quickly. "They'll have to do. Gather some form of bedding, enough for a young child. He can rest in a cell for now." 

"My Lord," the woman was unable to conceal her skepticism, but he didn't care. She would obey, and that was what mattered. The boy lingered behind and said nothing throughout the conversation. 

"Follow her, she'll take you to your... room," he commanded, motioning to the boy. He did not move. The man would have given him a shove, but he did not trust himself not to 'accidentally' break the boy's bones. "Now." 

"Please, come with me," the Gerudo woman said, voice shaking. "It's safe, I promise." 

The boy finally stepped forward, quickening his pace as he passed the man. Breath was finally allowed to escape as the two disappeared around a corner, then he spun to head to his own chambers. It was time to remove his armor and prepare for dinner.

The meal was lively as ever. The Rito merchants and traveling Gerudo joined the occasion, sharing stories of their travels, deals, and exploits. As always, the man shared his own portion of tales and boasts, though his were lamentably confined within the borders of the desert. The respect he commanded filled him with pride and confidence. Even the foreigners immediately fell silent when he spoke, and none dared look away.

Faukuri's eyes were also fixed on him, the only look in the room that belittled him. The others regarded her nearly as highly as himself, and he could begin to hate her for that.

Nonetheless, he left dinner feeling proud, and he had _nearly_ managed to forget about the creature in the dungeon. If only he could order his cell locked, like a proper prisoner. Should he visit him, ensure that he was 'comfortably settling in'? For any other guest, it would be his duty, though the Rito and warrior had arrived while he was plundering the ruins. 

But the child was no proper visitor, and it was a gift for him to even be here. He could wait until morning to again lay eyes upon the future king. Besides, he heard children had little regard for the schedule of adults, and so might already be asleep. 

Instead, the man spent the evening hours training, wielding weapons that were far to heavy for the Gerudo women to lift, let alone swing. He'd had practice blades specifically crafted to his requirements, and he now had several racks of practice weapons dedicated to him, and him alone.

As he deserved. He yearned for the satisfaction of slicing the practice dummies to ribbons with a real sword, but he could content himself with beating them to death instead. Each blow, wooden or not, would shatter bone, leaving any _real_ enemy broken on the ground before him. When he envisioned the crushed warrior, he was Hylian.

Dawn arrived quickly, warming the palace with desert heat. The light barely reached his room before he was up and ready, unwilling to waste even a moment. He wanted to get checking on the child out of the way as soon as possible. Now that his thoughts were gathered, it made sense to officially assign someone to watch over him, so he didn't have to personally see the boy. 

Regardless of future plans, he headed to the jail, a series of cells in a separate building attached to the west side of the palace by a short hallway. Aside from the cells, the jail also possessed two of very few sets of doors in Gerudo Town, built of thick metal that was always hot to the touchut as the jail was often empty, the doors stood open. Light filtered into the building like any other, though shadows still clung to the corners. 

He was stopped by a woman, the one that had led the boy to his lodging, before he entered the hallway. 

"My Lord, I'm sorry, but the child seems to have... disappeared," she said, breathless.

"What?" He could not explain why her statement filled him with such dread. Children wandered, and Gerudo Town was safe. And there was no reason to be concerned about what such a young child would _do_. 

"I came to bring him to breakfast early, so that he wouldn't interfere with your meal, My Lord," the woman explained. "But he was gone. I didn't think to close the door when I left him here, and I don't know how long he's been out." 

"You didn't think? He's a child, yes, but still a stranger! And you left him unattended and unrestricted, and are now surprised that he's gone! I didn't think this was a difficult task, but apparently you are unfit!" he snapped. "What is your name?" 

The woman looked away, trembling. Good. "Rimelu." 

"I'll remember your name," he warned, turning away from her. "For now, leave." 

"Don't you want me to-"

"I'll find him myself." He couldn't trust even the simplest task to this fool, or any other. For now, where would the boy have run off? The hallway to the palace was unadorned sandstone, likely boring for a child. The outside doors looked upon Gerudo Town, with its waterways, market, and architecture. He sighed and headed into town.

The early hour did not stop the bustle of the market, only slightly limited it. But the man never had to dodge around merchants and shoppers; all knew him. He scanned the crowd for the child, but the few children bore the red hair of the Gerudo, 

"Have you seen a small Hylian child?" he asked a merchant after a few minutes of searching. 

She shook her head wildly. "N-no, My Lord."

He continued on. Where would a child be? Where would _this_ child be? He'd potentially had hours to wander about, so he could be anywhere. The gate to town was always guarded, even at night, so he was confident he had not entered the desert, but beyond that... 

He strained to remember his own childhood, but most of his time had been spent in the training yard, even at the Hylian's age. Or it was possible the child had snuck into the stable to admire the horses.

He broke away from the market, certain that his annoyance was clear to the onlookers, and decided to take the back alleys on his return to the palace. Water flowed overhead, and most of homes and permanent shops were just waking as he passed by, barely worth a glance. A Hylian child, especially a boy, would have caused a commotion if he'd entered someone's home. 

The child hid himself well, even if he hadn't intended to. At several locations throughout town, water cascaded from its path along the upper wall down to ground level, gathering into crystalline pools. Curled up beside one such waterfall with his back to the wall, the boy slept. His fair hair fell in shaggy patches over his face, which held an untouched expression that represented neither anger nor bliss. 

For the first time since their meeting, the child's image did not immediately conjure hatred. Instead, the emotion was relief, followed quickly by satisfaction. Although children were always helpless, the boy was _extra_ helpless, and something about that was comforting.

However, as he moved to shake the boy awake, he hesitated. In this instant, he could _choose_ whether or not he truly hated him. Was the child's slumber simply reassuring, or was it endearing? Did he despise him?

Instinct battled reason, leaving no clear victor. After a few moments, the man sighed and bent to pick up the boy. There was no reason to disturb his sleep. 

His fragility shouldn't have been surprising. The man's skin crawled as it came into contact with the boy, but it was easier to ignore. As he straightened, the boy stirred. The future king lacked a gentle touch. Blue eyes fluttered open, groggy for only an instant before clearing. His body tensed, then slightly relaxed again. 

"I don't like my room," he said. 

The man laughed, just for a moment, but the action seemed to put the boy on edge once more. "I suppose not. I'll find you somewhere better to stay today. Next time, don't disappear without telling someone, understand?" 


	4. Marketplace

Before long, the boy squirmed out of the man's arms, landing on his feet with surprising grace. 

"What is it?"

Without a word, the boy pointed through the alleyway to a market stall, where a woman advertised an array of roasted foods. Even from several paces away, the thick scent of durian clotted the air. Gerudo women passed the stall without flinching, but the few foreign women gave the stall a wide berth.

"Do you want to try some?" he asked. "There should be food at the palace, but probably not durian."

The boy nodded enthusiastically. He was the first foreigner that seemed so eager to try durian. Most shied away, to the point where it was a known Gerudo game to tease visitors with the smelly plant. The fruit itself was tasty, though. 

"Two roasted hearty durian," the man said. The saleswoman jolted as he stepped out of the alley, the bright boy following a step behind. 

"Of course!" she squeaked, snatching the largest, most evenly cooked fruits from her display and offering them to him. "Thank you for visiting my stand, my Lord!"

He nodded, then handed one of the durians to the boy. It might have been fun to eat both in front of the child, but that level of pettiness made the least amount of sense so far.

The boy's bewilderment at how to eat the fruit was entertaining, as he shifted the spiky fruit in his hands. After a few seconds of amusement, the man demonstrated how to open the shell. The boy still seemed lost, and his small hands might not be strong enough to open the shell at all, so the man pried it open for him. 

"Th- Sarqso," the boy said. His voice was so... genuine. The sickening, endearing sincerity of his heavily accented words forced the man to turn away as he figured out his reaction.

"We can walk around a while longer. I'm in no rush to return to the palace." 

The boy took great interest in the market, as he darted from stall to stall. He awed at clothing stalls, pointed out every type of arrow at a weapons stall, and drooled over each food stall, despite his roasted durian. The saleswomen cooed over him and offered him samples when they spotted their future king following him, so within an hour the child was stuffed with food and had gathered a few clothing accessories. He had also been offered a bundle of arrows and a dagger, but the man turned them down before the boy could accept. Food and clothes were harmless, but he would _not_ have that boy armed. Even without his instinctual dislike of the boy, it was foolish to give weapons to such a young child.

"Do I look like a girl?" the boy asked, his voice muffled by the veil he had messily draped across his face.

"As much as a Rito looks like a Zora," the man laughed. Studying the boy, it was _possible_ he could pass as a girl, but he'd need more than a half-attached veil.

"My Lord!" The familiar voice stopped his judgement of the boy, and he turned to spot a frustrated face. "Why did you disappear so early? It worries your guards, you know," Kasout scolded, weaving through the crowd to stand before him. 

"I am not a prisoner; I felt like spending time in town, and so I did," the man retorted. Kasout had no right to lecture him, not even for a moment. 

"Speaking of prisoners, I heard you tried to keep the boy in jail!" she exclaimed. "I shouldn't have to tell you that that is no place for a child! It's no wonder he-"

"Silence," he waved her away. "It's taken care of. There was nowhere else for him to stay. Tonight he'll have somewhere better, do not worry. My kindness stretches ever further." 

She frowned, but fell blessedly quiet. The boy dashed around the man, his grin partially visible beneath his veil. 

"Kasout!"

"Sav'otta, little one," she smiled. "Well, you found him, at least, so I suppose there's no harm done. Now, why are you wearing this?" She straightened the child's veil, so that it hung properly over the majority of his face. He bounced slightly. "You look quite like a traditional little lady, don't you? You know, around here, we call women 'vai'. Did you know that?" 

As Kasout taught the child new words, which still sounded vaguely horrible coming from the boy, the man allowed his attention to wander. His mere presence was a spectacle, and even the women with obvious destinations kept sneaking glances his way. However, one foreign woman stared directly at him, unashamed, yet somewhat indecisive. Her long, pointed ears and light skin marked her as a Hylian. 

"What is it?" he asked her, allowing his voice to carry across the market to her. 

She stiffened, then readjusted her dress that seemed unfit for desert sun. The sweat across her head was likely caused by the heat, but it could also be apprehension. For several moments she did not move, but kept her clear brown eyes focused on him. Then she moved forward, drawing Kasout and the child's attention as well. 

"Hello, Gerudo Lord," she began. "My name is Tosie, and I am married to a farmer from a village not far from the edge of the desert. He, and a few more men from my village, have come to speak with you, but were not allowed into your city." Her words seemed practiced, and as she finished, she resumed fixating on the man. 

"What does he want?" he demanded.

"I do not know as much as he does. It would be best if you speak to him, rather than me," Tosie said. 

"In Gerudo Town, we do not look well upon men who keep secrets from their wives," Kasout interjected, stepping beside her lord. "Tell us what you do know, and if it is not enough, we have no reason to help you."

She was right, but she had no place to speak for him. The man scowled, but nodded his affirmation and shifted his attention back to Tosie. The Hylian woman seemed even more uneasy as she tugged on her sleeves.

"Well... There have been strangers raiding our village for the past while, and I believe they come from the direction of the desert. My husband has come to speak to you about them," she said.

This issue was barely relevant, and a lesser representative could easily resolve it. When he actually was king, he would not hesitate to send someone else. But, regardless of his distaste for the fact, he was not yet officially king, and all his alternatives for the day was loitering around the market, training, or fruitlessly arguing with Faukuri. 

"How far away are the men of your village?" he asked. "Are they at the bazaar?" 

"No, they have set up camp not far from your city. I walked here alone from our camp, just this morning," Tosie replied. 

"I shouldn't need my horse, then. Kasout, take the child back to the palace. I will speak with the Hylians."

"My Lord, I cannot. If you are leaving town, I will accompany you," Kasout insisted. 

Unsurprising, but infuriating. If he headed back to the palace, he'd likely have to explain where he was going. And he couldn't expect the boy to find his way back alone, he'd just wander off again. 

"Fine, we'll take the boy with us." He paused. "Tosie, you don't recognize this child, do you? He is Hylian."

The woman studied the boy for a moment. "I... don't think so, but... can he remove his veil?" Without a word, the boy ripped it off, revealing an intense expression on his face. After a few more seconds, Tosie shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't know him. He's a very cute boy, though."

"I don't suppose you'd like to take care of him anyway?" the man offered.

Tosie giggled. "No, thank you. I'm afraid I've got my hands full with my own children back home! Speaking of which, shall we head to my husband?" 

Of course. It would have simply been too easy to get rid of the child now. The boy apparently had no home or family, at least none that he would speak of and none that would track him down, and no one wanted to take him. Perhaps everyone was only pretending to like him, and they all felt the same inexplicable fury towards the child. Although, spending time with him wasn't as torturous as he'd expected. 

The creature himself cheerly followed Tosie as she led the group out of town, the Gerudo pair trailing behind.


	5. Bandits Across the Sand

"The thieves wear masks, so it's difficult to tell if they're Hylian or Gerudo," Olan, Tosie's husband, reported. "They've come every few nights for the past two months, and have stolen a bit of everything - food, money, valuables. When someone tried to chase after them, he got shot with arrows. Luckily, he's still alive, but our village simply isn't equipped to fight off armed thieves. They always flee in the direction of your desert, so we've come to ask you for help." 

"Have you ever seen them actually enter or leave the desert?" the man asked. "Or could they simply have a hideout in that direction? Your accusations that they come from my territory could be considered insults."

"Well, we live about a day's walk from the border," Olan admitted. "However, we've searched the land between our farms and the desert, and found nowhere such a large group could hide. We think it's likely they're coming from the desert, or at least the highlands."

"And what do you want us to do about it?"

"Well... help? At the very least, we felt we should request help from you first, since the thieves are from your land," Olan said. Then he grimaced and scrambled to backtrack. "Or, they're intruding on your land. Like I said, they could easily be Hylian or any race, really. I'm not suggesting they're Gerudo, or placing any blame on-"

"Quiet," the man snapped. "It doesn't matter if you think they're Gerudo or not. What matters is _why_ I would help you. Do you have a reason?"

Olan blinked. "Because..." he trailed off and glanced at his companions: his wife, and older man from his village, and a boy a few years short of adulthood, who had been introduced as the older man's son.

"Kasout, how are our trade connections with Hyrule?" the man inquired. 

"We don't have many, at the moment. Most of our goods from Hylian goods come from individual merchants, we don't have close official relationships with the country," she reported, meeting his gaze as the Hylians looked away. Except the child, who stared equally at everyone from his place at Kasout's side. 

"As I thought. I know that you said you were farmers from a small village, but that can still be worthwhile. I will prevent the thieves from raiding your farms, and you will enter into a trade deal with Gerudo Town. Sound fair?"

The four Hylians looked uneasy, and the older man motioned them into a huddle. After a few moments of conversation, Olan nodded in agreement. 

"Our village has never entered a trade deal before, but it may benefit us as well as the Gerudo. And we would like the thieves driven out as soon as possible."

"The correct choice. I'll send somewhat here to discuss and establish the details of the deal with you, then Kasout and I will take care of your pests." He turned to leave, the prospect of tracking down and battling some bandit making him eager.

"Wait! Can't we enter Gerudo Town, if we have the Gerudo King's permission?" Olan called out. "Wouldn't it be easier if-"

"No. Wait here, and someone will find you," he commanded, silencing the annoyance. "Unless you wish to send Tosie to negotiate for you, the deal will be established here." He didn't need to look to know that Olan was nodding in mute obedience. He did not have room for foolish argument, and he especially did not approve of insults to his power, unintentional though they may be. 

So long as Kasout could accompany him, she didn't care if he called his other guards. In an effort to avoid explaining to Faukuri, he sent the woman that was grooming the horses with the message and instructions to send someone to the Hylians. That left just one major issue. 

"Why don't you go with her? Wouldn't it be... fun... to see Faukuri again?" he asked the child before sending the messenger off. The boy shook his head and gripped Kasout's hand. Words were unnecessary to convey his meaning. 

"You're lucky you're light," the man remarked with a scowl, waving his messenger away.

"My Lord, we're not taking-"

"We don't have time to find him a babysitter, and he shouldn't slow us down. If it's just a few bandits, there shouldn't be any danger. Get your horse," he cut off Kasout's protest and moved to lead his horse out of the stable. Kasout already had her scimitar, and she'd grabbed a spear when the man retrieved his sword. 

Pride flashed through him as he beheld his horse, a massive midnight-black beast with a mane the burning color of the deepest red desert sand. A stallion descended from the steeds of kings from centuries ago, with all the power of its bloodline. It met his gaze with the same eagerness for battle, and nothing felt better than sitting atop its saddle, surveying the world from an undeniable position of strength. 

He led Kasout out of town, a destination already in mind. A place right before the desert shifted to highlands. A long abandoned, long uninteresting place, with crumbling walls but no prowling monsters or artifacts to unearth. The whole area was... empty, and had been his entire life. A new group of pathetic bandits seeking a place to hide wouldn't stay somewhere monsters roamed, and the area was near the border of the desert closest to Olan and Tosie's village. If they were in Gerudo desert, they were there.

The only problem was, it would take the better part of the day to get there, especially taking horse-safe paths that avoided deep sand. Luckily, the boy barely spoke and Kasout knew he found conversation while riding tedious and unnecessary, so they trotted in relative silence. Occasionally, Kasout said something to the child, but he never responded and her comments were always brief. 

So he had time to wonder. He'd managed to put it off before, hoping he could push responsibility of the child onto someone else in town. Now it was clear that unless they found his family, if he even had one, the boy wasn't going anywhere. The thought immediately filled him with disgust, but then he recalled finding the boy beside the fountain, and the stupid hours they'd spent at the market. How could he be dangerous, when he was so... childish? Playful? Endearing was not the correct term, but it was the one that kept shoving to the forefront of his mind. 

Either way, the kid needed a proper place to sleep, or else he'd just end up wandering off again. With better notice on the issue and less of a burning desire to push him as far away as possible, a few options came to mind. There were plenty of rooms that, while not originally designed as bedrooms, could be changed without harming the daily system of the palace. There were small studies that went barely used due to the existence of the library and other larger rooms that suited the purpose just as well. One of those could be cleared within a day or two. He should have ordered that before they left. 

Beyond that, should he send search parties to Hyrule to seek the child's parents? The boy seemed unwilling to acknowledge he even had parents. Perhaps he had been treated badly, even abandoned. But none of that should be the man's problem, so if he could find the boy's family, they would have to take him back. There was always the unpleasant possibility that they were dead, which would make the boy the man's problem unless they could find someone willing to adopt. Could he put notices out in nearby Hylian villages? 'Small child found, won't tell us his name or about his parents, free to his family or any home willing to take him?'

He couldn't send the boy off somewhere he didn't belong. That would be worse than keeping him.

_If I won't kill him-_

_I can't._

_Then keep my enemy close._

But the child was not an enemy. He'd known this morning, and he knew as he glanced back, spying him dozing on the horse with Kasout's support. She smiled when she noticed his attention, though concern still colored her face. Maybe bringing the boy on a bandit hunt wasn't the best idea, but it was fine. He would be safe. There was a promise.

Nighttime chill was just setting in as their destination drew into focus, though he barely noticed. The child was shivering, but wouldn't freeze. The man narrowed his eyes and strained to see farther, into the area half-protected by crumbling walls. As he watched, light sparked, followed by a flame, and he nearly laughed at the confidence of the bandits. Surely they knew that the ancient walls provided imperfect cover, and _someone_ would eventually come after them! Besides, he knew there was a deeper level of these ruins, an entryway to a basement that opened into a wide chamber. From the chamber, there were several more pathways, but each was clogged with sand. Perhaps superstition kept the thieves from the available underground chamber.

"Plan?" Kasout asked quietly, pulling her horse to a stop beside him. 

"Either stay back here and watch, or hold tightly to the boy and stay behind me," he said. "This shouldn't take long."

He urged his horse forward, feeling it shudder with echoed excitement. Kasout, of course, followed.

The bandits were preparing some meat for their fire, and their heads shot up in identical expressions of shock and helplessness. There were five of them, and it didn't even take a glance to determine they were clearly not Gerudo. They were Hylian, or Sheikah, or some similar race, and Olan's inability to recognize his own people from the Gerudo was sickening. 

As he passed the wall, he leapt off his horse, letting it charge into the bandits. Beneath the sand rested well-worn stone, promising secure footing in the skirmish at hand. 

He reached for his sword, then let his arm fall away. He didn't need it. The bandits scrambled, tossing aside their uncooked food and diving away from his fervent steed. 

He bounded forward, grasping for the nearest bandit. The fool stared blankly at him without trying to draw his weapon. He was hurled backwards, his head colliding with the ground a few seconds later. The sand was not deep enough to protect him, and the sound of skull on stone incited a grin. 

Two managed to unsheathe short swords, but held them uncomfortably. It seemed they had taught themselves the art of weaponry, and they were horrible teachers. The man strode toward them, relishing the terrified light in their unsteady eyes. Then he lunged. His fingers tightened around the sword arm of the bandit on the left. Metal tumbled to the ground, and a screech pierced the air. Bone cracked and the bandit went sprawling before his accomplice moved. 

Clumsy and slow. The blade stabbed toward him with less skill than the child had demonstrated with his wooden stick, and the man casually leaned to the side. The sword drifted past him, leaving plenty of opening to slam its owner to the ground. If his body crunched, the man didn't hear it over the startled, then pained yelp. He struck him again, enjoying the scream, then shifted his attention to the remaining two bandits. 

Kasout remained mounted, likely to keep hold of the child, and jabbed her spear at the her targets, who seemed competent enough to evade, at least. She pursued one across the floor as he barely avoided being stabbed or trampled, while the other...

Drew a bow. There was no way bandits of this level of incompetence could hit a moving target, but... The man bolted toward the archer, but she'd already let an arrow fly. An instant later, her bow was forced from her quickly crushed fingers. The sharp clamor of the horse tore attention back to Kasout. Her horse reared, struck in the hindquarters by the arrow. With one hand wielding her spear and the other steadying the child, Kasout was hurled off. Her audible gasp as she hit the ground, shielding the boy from the impact, was enough to ignite fresh fury in the man. 

Terror filled the archer's expression as he turned back to her. No running. The man's hand shot to her neck, tightening, tightening. The archer lost the privilege of breath the moment she loosed that arrow. That horrified glimmer began to fade, leaving only glass...

"Stop!" The voice belonged to the final bandit. He didn't release the archer, but paused in adding pressure as he turned. The fifth enemy stood with hands outstretched, as if begging.

"Why?" he demanded, gaze flickering to Kasout and the child. Kasout still seemed winded, a trickle of blood sliding down her shoulder. Amazingly, the child stood between Kasout and the bandit, clasping Kasout's scimitar in his small hands. 

"Or..." the bandit paused. He darted for the child, who slashed wildly. A cut opened along the bandit's face as he tugged the boy close to him and twisted Kasout's scimitar against the child's neck. "Or I'll kill him in return!"

_Go ahead._

_That's wrong._

"Why would-" he broke off. Killing the bandits hadn't been the goal anyway. Trying to mask his disappointment, he dropped the archer. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious but alive. "Release him."

More relieved than intelligent, the bandit abandoned his hostage and moved to rush to his comrade, but the man blocked his path. 

"Your lives will be spared tonight, as my kindness apparently knows no bounds. Stay far away from the nearby Hylian village, and of course any Gerudo territory. If I hear of you again, you will not survive."

"Yes, my k-" The bandit choked, then nodded. Along with the bandit with the broken arm, he rushed to gather his companions and a few of their supplies. Among them were the masks Olan had mentioned, which were painted with some sigil. The bandits hadn't been wearing them at their hideout, and now they kept them angled away so the man couldn't quite make them out. After a few moments of trying to pick up their unconscious companions, the healthy one cast an anxious, apologetic look his way. 

"We can't seem to travel right now. We will be gone by tomorrow night, you have my word."

"You had best not break it," the man relented. He honestly couldn't care less whether the bandits stayed in these useless ruins; they wouldn't be causing trouble after tonight. 

He retrieved his horse while Kasout calmed hers, then he led them away from the bandit camp.

Only once they were far enough not to be seen or heard did he order another stop.

"How did that happen?" he demanded.

"I think you saw all of it!" she replied. "I could have had better balance, but it would have worked out! I wasn't about to get beaten by some unruly villagers!" 

"If it were anyone with skill, you might well be dead," he said. "This is why you should have stayed back!"

"You know I can't do that, my Lord," she retorted. "And it doesn't matter now. Did you see how brave this boy was! After I fell, he protected me!" 

The child swelled slightly at her praise, through his entire body was still tense. It was impressive he wasn't bawling, considering he'd just been a hostage.

"Protected?" the man scoffed. "All the courage in the world won't do him any good if he doesn't have the power to back it up." 

"Well, I think it was impressive!" 

"...maybe it was, for a child," he admitted, trying to recall himself at such a young age. Any memories he held were impossibly fuzzy. 

The boy himself had begun studying the sand beneath his feet. "You know those people... stole from Tosie, right? You know it was them?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I'm quite sure," the man responded before Kasout could. 

"I want to... to protect people from stealing. Like you just did!" the boy continued. He provided an apprehensive smile. "Can I stay?"

"For good?" In answer, a small nod. "You really don't have parents or anyone looking for you?" He shook his head in denial. The kid's face was so clear, so bright, so hopeful. The man didn't deserve, or even really want, that kind of hope directed at him. He should crush it. Send him away, anywhere, or lock him up for real. "Then I suppose you can stay." 

The shaky smile grew on the boy's face, nearly tempting one in exchange. Kasout caught the grin. 

"Sarqso!" He hesitated, apparently making a decision. "My name is Link!"

The name hit like bomb arrow, and the man barely maintained his composure. Why was the boy's name so horrible? Why did it fill his mouth with the taste of blood and make his hands tremble? Why did knowing the boy's name, which was terrible yet undeniably fitting, reignite the hatred that he'd somewhat fought down since their meeting?

"That... is a name," he said.

"It's an adorable name!" Kasout cooed. "Link," Hearing it again was another blow to his head. "It's great that you've finally told us your name!"

"Yes. Of course." 

"My Lord? Link's finally shared his name with us. Don't you think you should tell him yours?" Kasout asked. 

He blinked. "You mean he doesn't already know?" Everyone knew his name; it was just barely anyone used it. It was an ancient name, and barely felt _his_. Lesser people knew their place not to speak it in vain, sticking to his titles. 

"I don't think so," she said. "Do you, Link?"

For several seconds, he stared directly at the man, his light, unblinking eyes unnerving. Then he shook his head.

"Well, then, my name's-" He shouldn't _have_ to introduce himself to anyone, let alone this child. The word was difficult to say, as if he had no right to claim it. Not while Link stood breathing before him. But it _was_ his name, and it belonged to him. No mental block could take what was his. "Ganondorf."

Link's breath quickened and his body once again tensed, more than in or directly after the battle, possibly even more than when he'd been woken up. His expression mirrored how Ganondorf felt, as though some vague idea had been confirmed, but he still had no idea what the idea was. Except that it was frightening, horrible. 

"Well, a job's been done. Shall we head home?" Kasout broke the jagged silence, and the three of them began the ride back.


	6. Official

Two days passed since they returned to Gerudo Town, and Ganondorf had been able to avoid the boy for most of it. He'd made arrangements for a mostly unused pantry to be converted into a small room for the child. Faukuri's study was still in use, his study was occupied with important storage, and a third study that he'd thought existed apparently didn't. New clothing was being made, since the boy had worn the same faded shirt and pants since they'd found him. He was lucky the material of his clothes was light, and the desert hadn't been particularly hot the past few days, or he might have fallen from the heat. 

Maybe Ganondorf had been a negligent 'guardian', but the kid wasn't dead, and he never wanted this foolish responsibility. Someone else could take over. 

But they couldn't. Now that the boy's presence seemed to be becoming a more permanent aspect, he couldn't leave him alone. The day he officially became king approached, but not fast enough. Until then, he needed more long-term permission for the child's stay, which meant another conversation with Faukuri. Unfortunately, this time also meant introducing the new addition to other important people: the captain of the guard, the head merchant, and so on. Ganondorf wasn't deaf to the rumors flying throughout the palace and town, and he knew an explanation was expected of him. Unfortunately, he didn't really have an answer. He'd made a stupid promise, and then he'd made another one. If the child didn't have a name, he might be more welcome, but as it was, the judgement of the Gerudo was all that kept Ganondorf from sending him away. It was a cruel joke of fate that he should be the one defending the child's existence. The boy would probably be happier with other Hylians anyway; his body wasn't exactly built for life in the desert.

But none of that mattered, and he needed to shove his doubts aside. Nothing he had said or done was a mistake; there merely may have been slightly better options. The boy was here now, and here he would stay. 

Ganondorf strode into the kitchen, startling two chatting women. 

"Is the boy ready?" he asked. 

"Yes, My Lord!" one of them jolted, racing to the alcove that held the child's new room. She appeared a moment later, leading the bright-eyed creature. 

His appearance was sickening. The clothes were clearly inspired from traditional male Gerudo clothes Ganondorf had worn in his youth, though it was combined with some of the style worn by female Gerudo children. The pants deep red were patterned with subdued yellow, matching the child's new boots, and his shirt covered less than half his upper body. Someone had brushed through his light hair and pulled it into a loose ponytail. The sand and grime were washed away. Thankfully, the boy didn't look royal, but he did appear too Gerudo for Ganondorf's liking. For some reason, he also wore the veil he had gotten at the market.

"Why is he wearing that?" Ganondorf demanded. The woman shrugged apologetically.

"It's Gerudo! And it's pretty!" the boy explained, enthusiasm dripping from his words. He patted the veil over his mouth, surely grinning beneath the bright cloth. 

"Take it off." He wasn't about to have the boy wearing an old-fashioned, clashing accessory to a meeting with some of the most important people in Gerudo Town. 

The boy shook his head, stubbornness flashing across the visible part of his face. 

"I don't have time for this. Either leave it behind, or I'll leave you behind," Ganondorf snapped. He turned to leave, fully intending to make good on his threat despite the inconvenience. "And without you at the meeting, we'll likely decide to send you away." A moment later, the boy scurried to his side, veil absent from his face. "Good."

The child only nodded, clearly disappointed. He'd have to get used to that, if he was going to insist on acting so childishly.

The two were not the last to the meeting, but very nearly. The only other spot empty belonged to Akenu, head merchant and organizer of the town's official trade deals. She, or someone under her, had finished the conversation with Olan and Tosie Ganondorf had set up. The boy situated himself beside Ganondorf and amused himself with gazing wide-eyed around the room, though he remained blessedly silent. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting ancient Gerudo heroes and legends. The doorways were draped in colorful, but relatively meaningless, patterns. The boy seemed transfixed by a scene illustrating a young Gerudo chief.

After a few moments, Akenu rushed in, spoke a few apologies, and took her place.

"We are here to see the Hylian boy Ganondorf has brought to our town, and I am here to consider his extended presence within our home," Faukuri began. "As we all know, the boy has been here for a total of three days, although the majority of _one_ of those days was spent on an unexpected journey across the desert." Her gaze bored into Ganondorf, full of blame she had no right to levy.

"Akenu, you are very welcome," he responded. "I know the town has limited trade with Hyrule, and I know, with your expertise, our connection with the Hylian town can be an opening to a prosperous future."

"Well, yes, My Lord, there's always potential. Our deal with the village will be helpful for some imports, but I am uncertain as to how much this will translate into relations with the entire kingdom," Akenu said. "They are-"

"An opportunity," Ganondorf cut her off. Her words ceased and she dropped her gaze. 

"Regardless, we are not here to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of _that_ action," Faukuri lied. Undoubtedly, she enjoyed watching others belittle Ganondorf's efforts. She had the opposite of faith in him. "We are here to speak about the boy, the young voe." The use of the traditional word sent a murmur through the room, bringing the old restrictions to the forefront of the women's minds. 

"The child has told me that he has no family to seek him, and nowhere to go. I have promised him safety while he has no one else to care for him, and therefore he _will_ stay in Gerudo Town," Ganondorf said. 

The others had no right to argue, but lines creased Faukuri's face. "Why should I allow him to stay, against our traditions, based on a promise you made without consideration as to the consequences?" 

"Because if tradition is your best argument, then you have none," Ganondorf replied, barely managing to keep his voice level. _'Allow' I should never be 'allowed' to do anything!_ He gathered a shaky breath. Soon. His day would come, and then nothing could limit him. Faukuri would ask him 'allowance' to breathe, and would never hold power over him again. 

"Bold words, for one who's entire future is based upon tradition," Faukuri said. Before he could retort, she continued. "I don't think it's fair to ask our people to accommodate a young voe in our town, or to confine him to Gerudo Town when he would be happier and... safer back in Hyrule."

As much as he loathed her words, Ganondorf couldn't help noticing some of his own wishes within her argument, and found himself torn between opposing her on principle and allowing her to send the boy away.

"I want to stay!" the child interrupted, springing into the conversation. "I asked!"

"You want to stay in Gerudo Town?" Faukuri blinked. Had she believed Ganondorf was keeping the boy against his will?Her misunderstanding was nearly amusing. "With Ganondorf?" 

The name elicited the same reaction from the boy as before, and he took a moment to respond. 

"Yes. And Kasout!" The thought of Ganondorf's lead guard uplifted the boy, and his tension relaxed.

"In that case... I cannot make a decision such as this on my own. Child, if you will speak with those gathered here, so they can become familiar with you, we can take a vote about your future," Faukuri decided. The boy nodded in agreement.

A few moments passed before the captain of the guard spoke. "What was your name, young voe?" 

"Link," the boy replied, the poisonous word hovering in the air. The name apparently meant nothing to the captain, or the majority of the people at the meeting, but Faukuri's eyes narrowed. 

Actually, she'd seemed surprised about Ganondorf's ignorance of the boy's name in the past. Did she know something? How could she, when the discoverer of the child himself knew next to nothing about him? Suspicion prickled Ganondorf, but he had no opportunity to question her.

"Why do you want to stay in Gerudo Town?" the captain pressed. 

"It's the only place. And the food's really good!" the boy explained. He paused, then another thought seemed to cross his mind. "Oh, and I want to learn to protect people!" He grinned, and his cheer was once again infectious. 

Through a slight smile of her own, the captain asked another question. "Why do you think here's the best place for that?" 

"I saw them protect Tosie! She said they were threatened, and he and Kasout stopped the stealing!" 

"So you don't want to stay with Tosie, or her village, then?" Akenu interjected. "You could learn a lot there too, you know."

The boy just shrugged and shook his head. 

"How long do you want to stay?" 

After a moment of consideration, the boy replied, with utter conviction: "Forever!"

More inquiries aimed at the boy, and he responded to them all with childish simplicity. After a while, Ganondorf tuned out, honing in on Faukuri's reactions. She remained silent throughout the examination, and kept her expression carefully guarded. As she noticed Ganondorf's attention, she met his gaze, unflinching, judgemental, with a storm of thoughts kept perfectly clouded from his view.

Finally, the attendees were satisfied with the child's personality, and agreed to call the vote.

"Ganondorf and I will vote last, so as not to sway your opinions," Faukuri declared. "All in favor of keeping the child in Gerudo Town, make your opinion known."

Of the eight other women, five raised their hands. The remaining three were against. 

"I presume we already know Ganondorf's vote, and as for mine... I agree with allowing him to stay," Faukuri announced. "The child is officially permitted to remain in Gerudo Town as an honorary member of our community." She paused, then retrieved a small paper and strode over to the child. "This, young Link, is a Gerudo Token. You will likely not need it, as I'm certain news of your situation has and will continue to spread swiftly, but this will ensure you are treated as one of us. Be careful not to lose it." 

The child accepted the token with naïve reverence. "Sarqso." 

"We will have much to speak about, one day," Faukuri murmured to him, and Ganondorf barely caught her words. He scowled. "Meeting dismissed," she said, louder. Akenu darted out, followed shortly by a few others. A couple people lingered, perhaps hoping to speak one-on-one with the child. 

"Ganondorf, we have to talk, now. I ask that someone watches over Link while we speak," Faukuri called, motioning for him to follow into a smaller room. With a grimace, he obeyed. 

The tapestry swirled shut behind them, and she glanced warily at the opening. After a deep breath, she began.

"I don't think you are ready to be king." 

"What?" The people outside surely heard him, but it didn't matter. "Why would you speak that? It does not matters what you think! The day is coming, and there's nothing that can be done to stop it! Why would you even enrage me, when it will accomplish nothing?" 

"Calm down," Faukuri whispered. "I think it is best if you wait a few more years. You cannot properly watch over a child with so much new responsibility, and I just do not feel the time is right. The Gerudo are not ready for a king."

"'Ready for a king'? They are perfectly ready! You cannot take my destiny from me based on how you 'feel'!" Ganondorf thundered. 

"Your destiny may not be as brilliant as you imagine!" Faukuri shot back. She appeared unintimidated by his fury, but he caught a flicker of unease in her face and voice. He could win. Maybe not today, but sometime, she too would bow. He couldn't allow any ground. "And besides, if it is truly meant to be, your destiny will wait!"

"Why should it? Why shouldn't I take what I deserve, this very instant? I've been patient, waiting for the day that day and night are balanced, and yet here, so soon before the time, you try to take what is mine?" 

Faukuri should be crushed. Destroyed, utterly. With no chief, the Gerudo would have no choice but to turn to their king, and he could finally claim what was his. He imagined the satisfaction of her mangled body on the stone, knowing he'd never have to hear her voice or look into her eyes again. His hands trembled with anticipation, and he was nearly in motion to crack her skull when the tapestry rippled open, revealing the child.

The two people who deserved death most, of all the people in the world, stood staring at him, awaiting his move. 

"What are you doing here?" Ganondorf growled. The child just blinked at him, with those horrible, bright eyes. How strong was his word? If he killed Faukuri, keeping his promise to the boy would be the least of his problems. If the Gerudo wouldn't follow someone who broke his oaths, they definitely wouldn't follow someone who killed their chief. 

His hands fell to his side, and a heavy sigh escaped him. "I need an oath, from you, Faukuri," he said. "I need a time, by which I _will_ be king. No excuses, no meandering. I don't care if war engulfs the world at that time. I need an unbreakable promise for a time you will finally stop standing in my way. If you can do that..."

"Of course." Her composure... did she know how close she had come to death? "Five years. No longer. Of that, you have my word." 

"You had better keep it," Ganondorf warned. "If you don't, you'll have more than your broken honor to worry about." He turned to the boy.

"Are you alright?" the child asked. Ganondorf had no idea if the boy was speaking to him or Faukuri, but he answered for both.

"Everyone's fine. Now, it's time to go."

As night fell, Ganondorf galloped across the desert, no destination except _away._ Guards were supposed to accompany him whenever he left town, but he didn't need their protection. All he needed was to be alone. His fury smoldered. Today, he had been marked as powerless, incapable taking what belonged to him. Sitting atop his horse, cloaked in thick armor and a heavy cape that could never be worn in the heat of the day, he could regain a little of the strength he prided himself upon. Were the nights only longer, the people in his way fallen, would he rule a perfect world. 

He'd just have to do it himself. He would wait, but not passively. The old, foolish chief could not be trusted to hold her word. Not that he could blame her. When he held power, it would not be given to anyone, no matter what birthright they claimed. But she possessed weakness, and he had glimpsed it. And so, when he returned, he'd have to begin to act. Destiny needed a push to be set in motion.


	7. Stories

Neither his fury nor conviction faded, but his route was uncertain. Rumors flew around the palace and across town, and within a few days everyone knew of his... postponement. All he could do was put on a confident front, promising the gossipers that the delay was part of _his_ plan. 

"As I said, it would be foolish to undermine Faukuri while she's still doing her best as chief," he said. "I could be king at any point, but after discussing it, I decided it would be best to wait a while longer. After all, the Gerudo haven't had in a king in many generations, and no one's going anywhere." 

"Of course, my Lord," the woman's head bobbed in false agreement. "...So, are you going to wait for Faukuri to retire, then?" Her tone was blatantly casual, but her eagerness to snap up any new information was beyond obvious. 

"I don't think she'll stop being chief for as long as she lives. I see no reason to wait quite that long. A few short years, no longer; by then the world will be ready."

Another nod. He'd told her nothing she hadn't already heard. She was a warrior, he'd seen her face a few times, but she was not part of his guard. He'd never bothered to learn her name. "Good luck on your travels, my Lord," she said. "I hope you find lots of artifacts!"

"Of course." She was already gone, hustling down the hallway. She hadn't learned anything, but undoubtedly their interaction would be added to the gossip pool within minutes. 

Ganondorf sighed and continued to the training yard, where he'd pick up his weapons for the trip. A week and a half of pretending to accept Faukuri's verdict exhausted him, and several days spent raiding ruins and battling monsters would provide him a small respite. Maybe he'd even make a detour to Molduga territory. The thought managed to summon the start of a genuine grin as he imagined tearing the great beast from the sand. 

Kasout waited for him in the training yard, alongside the child. She sat cross-legged on the ground, holding a spear as the boy leaned toward it. 

"He is not coming with us," he declared, startling them. 

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "He wanted to see me off, that's all. And I thought I'd show him some of the weapons we use, since he seemed really interested in them." 

"Do not show or teach him anything about weapons," Ganondorf growled. 

Kasout blinked. "I wasn't letting him hold them, I'm just showing him. When I was his age, my mother taught me about Gerudo weapons. He won't actually carry them for several years."

"He will _never_ carry weapons. Do you understand?" 

"No, I don't," Kasout sighed. "But I suppose it's not my place to argue, my Lord." She pushed herself to her feet, pulling the spear away from the crestfallen boy.

"Why can't I look?" he spoke up. "They're interesting!" 

Ganondorf scowled at him. The boy knew he made him uneasy. Ganondorf made the boy uneasy as well. Was his question intended to infuriate him? 

"I don't need a reason," he responded after several tense moments. His words were weak; maybe when he was truly king, he could act as he wished, no matter how unjustified it may seem, but not now. "You're too young, and not Gerudo. Just because you're staying in our town doesn't mean you should learn of our weapons." That reason was imperfect, but it would have to do. The child and Kasout's gazes bored into him. Judging him, challenging his authority. Just like everyone else. 

Unconfident of his ability to intimidate the boy, he glared at Kasout. Only a few seconds passed before she lowered her head in deference. 

"I have prepare the horses. Link, are you ready to go?" she asked. The boy, always difficult, shook his head. 

"I want to stay." 

"I don't think that's the best-"

"I'm staying!" Kasout and the child's staring contest felt less strained than Ganondorf's, and finally Kasout smiled. She was truly horrible at this. 

"My Lord, I can't say no to his little face. Can you watch him, and send him back to the kitchen when your ready to leave? I'll meet with the other guards and have the horses ready outside of town soon." 

"No. If you can't say no to him, he needs a better caretaker, and you can't tell me-" She was already gone, taking her weapons with her. Ganondorf sighed, but refused to pursue. He was never desperate, and certainly not about being in the same room as the child for a few minutes. He'd just ignore him.

Obviously, he'd take his sword, and he mused over taking a bow. Archery was far from his favorite tactic, and although all Gerudo learned to shoot, it was one method he'd never quite excelled in. However, it might be useful if he planned to battle a Molduga. He paused as he noticed the child standing next to him, staring at the rack of bows he'd uncovered to make his decision.

"I like that one!" the boy announced, pointing to a wooden bow with simple ornamentation.

"I don't care," Ganondorf snapped. He selected the most ornate bow he could find, ignoring the fact that he'd never wielded this specific one before. 

"How do you shoot it?" the child asked. 

"With skill. And strength. Both of which you lack," Ganondorf told him.

The boy frowned, apparently deciding whether to pout or continue being annoying. He chose the latter. "How do I get skill and strength?" 

" _You_ don't." Ganondorf turned to leave, hoping he could find someone to escort the nuisance back to the kitchen. Or anywhere but here. 

"Why not? ...How did you get strong?" the boy pressed. "I saw you helping Tosie. You were really strong! How'd that happen?" 

"How'd that happen?" Ganondorf paused. "Natural talent and lots of training. There's nothing complicated about it. Although..." He smiled. His hopes for the near future had brought up pleasant memories, and he supposed he could share with the boy. "Do you want to hear about the first time I fought a Molduga?" 

The boy nodded enthusiastically. There was a genuineness to the motion that Ganondorf hadn't seen in a long time. "Except... what's a Molduga?" 

Ganondorf laughed. He supposed it wasn't surprising; the boy was young, and not from the desert. "They're great sand monsters; they resemble fish, with spines of bone on their backs and tails, except they're far larger than even a horse. I battled my first one when I was... eleven years old, I believe. Do you really want to hear the story?

"Yes, please!" the boy encouraged. "Tell me about the big fish!" This wasn't for gossip, this wasn't even out of respect. His agreement came from genuine interest.

"I've trained since I could hold a weapon, and fought smaller monsters for years before then, and this was the result of my efforts. Of course my guards followed me; you wouldn't recognize their names, as Kasout was too young at that point. They were supposedly there to keep me safe, but if I gave that beast a chance, it would have killed me before they reached me. Of course, I never gave it a chance," He smiled at the memory, and at the child's anticipative face. "Moldugas sense vibrations in the ground. If you tempt one out, a skilled archer can shoot its mouth and eyes, wearing it down. That's not what I did. I brought a sword -- this one, actually,"

Forgetting his reservations about showing the child weapons, Ganondorf brandished his blade. The massive sword had been slightly difficult for his younger self to wield, but now it felt perfect in his hands. Sun gleamed off its broad surface, and the boy gawked at it, transfixed. 

"The sand in which Moldugas swim is too deep for horses, so I sent a sand seal across the area, calling it back when it reached too far away. It's horrible to train sand seals, but at that point, I was inexperienced fighting larger monsters, and I needed bait. I waited for what felt like hours, then the sand seal started to panic. The ground rumbled, and the creature erupted from the sand. I've told you what they are, but you need to see one to fully understand -- they're huge, hideous fish with sides that seem to be made from stone. They have sharp, giant teeth behind a jaw that can crush any Gerudo or Hylian. This was my opponent. While it was focused on the sand seal, I rushed forward, grasping my sword and already certain of my victory. It tried to strike me with its jaw, but I slid around it, barely keeping my footing on the sand - I was a bit less coordinated back then. I swung my sword up, hitting its chin. It released this immensly satisfying cry of shock and pain. I don't think that Molduga had ever been hurt before it fought me, and I sure taught it well that battle," 

He was caught in the memory now, relishing the recollection of his sword, the sand, his enemy, and the adenaline of a fight that he would have to devote all his efforts to. Some of that had been lost to him as his strength grew. He barely even remembered his audience as he continued. 

"It tried to burrow back underground, but I didn't let it. I dove away from its mouth -- you never want to stay near a Molduga's tail or mouth for longer than a moment -- and scraped my sword against its side. I hit the point where its stony-scales met the weaker scales of its belly, and the power of my attack tore through the weaker scales. My blade left a long trail of blood along the monster's side. Some of it spurted on me. The Molduga's tail swept above my head as I slid on the sand, a spike grazing my hair. I took a moment to regain my balance, but the Molduga took a moment more. I hit it again, starting at the wound I'd just opened and tearing open scales and flesh towards its belly, and the Molduga must have known that it was about to die. It rolled to the side, tearing my sword from my hands -- that would never happen now, but I was weaker and inexperienced then -- and nearly crushing me beneath it. I scrambled out of the way, and noticed my guards start to move toward me. I couldn't let them ruin my fight, so I acted swiftly. While the Molduga squirmed on the ground, trying to tunnel or simply suffering as it pushed my sword farther into its own body, I drew my second weapon, a small scimitar. I circled to its face, staying just barely out of range of its jaw..."

He recalled his apprehension, the emotion bordering between terror and delight as he lost his main weapon and moved to strike. One mistep meant death, yet the correct steps meant complete domination over a massive monster of the sand! How great it had been to stand before it and see the animalistic fear in its expression! 

"I found its eyes, which are actually very small and generally protected by ridged crests. Its eyes were open, and I plunged the scimitar into one. It writhed in pain. I don't know if the scimitar would have gone deep enough to kill it, as the curve of the blade made my attack a little off, but I raced to my sword, deep in its side, and finished what I'd started. The creature's stomach was sliced nearly completely open, and half my body became coated in blood. I won, without any injuries or help. That was the first time I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that I was _strong_."

The conclusion of his story brought him back to reality, where the child seemed a mixture of nauseous and amazed. "What's wrong?"

"Was there really that much blood?" the boy asked. 

"Yes? I was battling a massive beast; you don't win that fight without getting some blood on you," Ganondorf answered, slightly disappointed. "Is that really what your focusing on?"

"No, it was really exciting!" the boy exclaimed. "It was a great story! You kept fighting after you dropped the sword. You seemed really brave!" He hesitated, then stared up at Ganondorf with an enthusiastic glint in his eyes. "Can you tell me another story?" 

"Well, there is-" Ganondorf stopped himself. As much as he'd love to continue regaling the child with tales of his exploits, Kasout had probably long since gotten the horses ready. "Another time, alright? I have to go now." 

"How long will you be gone?" the boy pressed, following Ganondorf a few steps as he began to leave. 

"A few days, at least. Kasout will be gone too. If you're good, she'll be very happy to see you when we return," Ganondorf said. "And maybe I'll find time to tell you another story. But you have to go back to the kitchen now, and don't do anything strange while we're gone. Understand?" 

The boy nodded, though his disappointment shone through as he slowly moved to obey. Ganondorf waited just long enough to ensure he was heading in the direction of the kitchen, then turned to unite with his guards. Maybe he'd have a new story to tell the boy when he returned. 


	8. Tedium

A lone electric lizalfos dozed before the ruins, its camouflage enough to fool an untrained eye. 

Ganondorf held his bow and slowly aimed at the monster, failing to ignore Kasout and the other guards' judgemental looks.

"My Lord, should I kill it?" Hulel offered, unwisely. 

"No," he snarled. "I brought this bow, and I will be the one to draw the first blood." He released the string. The arrow soared onward, missing the lizalfos and bouncing off a stone wall of the ancient fortress, well above and to the left of his target. "It's too decorative. This bow was never intended for use," he declared, casting the offending weapon to the ground. 

At his outburst, the lizalfos opened its beady eyes. For several moments it scanned its surroundings, missing Ganondorf and his guards only because they rested behind a crumbling wall of dirt and stone. It did, however, spot their horses. Electricity pulsed from its horn as it scurried forward. 

"Fine," Ganondorf grumbled. As the monster moved towards their position, he loosened and drew his sword. The creature was wholly focused on investigating the horses, and had no time to react as he stepped out of hiding. In a single smooth motion, he cleaved the lizalfos's body in two. Its horn still flickered with small lightning, but it would never be released. 

"It's more satisfying with a sword anyway," Ganondorf told himself. He continued to disregard his guards as he sawed off the horn and tail of the lizalfos, then carefully removed its claws. If one were to find monsters, it would likely be at night and near ruins, but even then they were relatively scarce. Lizalfos parts could be just as valuable as any artifacts they managed to find on their third - or was this the fourth? - scouring of this ancient fortress. 

The ruins had once been a large keep, at least three stories tall, though the upper floors were crumbling. Dozens of entrances dotted the exterior of the structure, some of which had been intentionally built, others created by time. 

Ganondorf led three of his guards through what seemed to be the front door. Ungoam remained with the horses to keep watch. He strode through the hallway with little caution until they reached one of the main rooms. As before, an old, faded, incorrect map of Hyrule and its surrounding lands sat spread across a decrepit table. 

The map lacked the southern and northern regions, and what landmarks were present were in slightly wrong places. Even if the Hyrule Castle Town of the map's time had been different from the one of today, it was no excuse for the complete misplacement of the forest, or the entirely too northern location of Zora's Domain. The people who had inhabited this fortress were obviously foolishly uninformed, with their inability to comprehend even vague geography.

He left the map, as he'd brought back an identical one after a previous search. As he scanned the room, seeking items the monsters may have collected or hidden areas he may have missed during previous searches, he became sharply aware of a crowding issue. 

"Hulel and Neratu, search from the far hallway," he ordered. He couldn't get rid of all his guards, but they would leave if he kept Kasout with him. Without a word, they followed his command. 

The room appeared empty, so he continued up the narrow steps through the nearest hallway, eventually reaching an open area with two rusted jail cells. Another lizalfos slumbered within one. This one was also alone. 

Ganondorf wished the creatures weren't all sleeping, and considered waking it solely to have an interesting fight. Even better, he wished there were more monsters within the halls. He doubted the creatures possessed the intelligence to form patrols or groups, but the thought of battling a half dozen or more fully awake monsters at once summoned some semblance of enthusiasm. This was just boring. 

He didn't really try to stay quiet as he stepped into the cell to slay the lizalfos, and the creature scrambled up. Reacting differently than its brethren outside, it didn't wait to view its surroundings before blasting its surroundings with electricity. The shock coursed down Ganondorf's sword arm, and his blade clattered embarrassingly against the ground. He glared at the monster and shook himself, deciding to simply crush the offensive creature. Ignoring his sword, he advanced, searching for the fear in the lizalfos eyes as it waited for its electricity to recover and realized it was cornered by its own choice of bedroom. 

Then a spear embedded itself in that eye. For several seconds, the lizalfos remained standing, the white tip of the spear poking out from its far eye. Kasout tugged her weapon out and withdrew it through the bars of the cell as the monster collapsed. 

"I did not require help," Ganondorf told her. 

"Regardless, I am here to give it," she replied. 

Wishing to forget the encounter, he knelt to collect monster parts. As he detached the talons, a flash of white beneath a cluster of rubble caught his attention. He drew closer and shoved the fallen stones to the side, revealing two long blades. They were scimitars, but longer and thicker than the ones carried by the Gerudo warriors of today. Surprisingly little rust marred their pale surfaces. 

"Do you recognize this design?" he asked, pulling them out of their long resting place to show Kasout. Their grips were simple, and somewhat too small for his hands. 

"...Not quite," Kasout examined the scimitars. "None of the weapons I've used have exactly matched these. They seemed to be designed to use at the same time. so..." She leaned her spear against the wall and reached out expectantly. With only slight hesitation, Ganondorf passed them to her. They fit perfectly in her grasp.

"They are impressively light!" she exclaimed. "I wonder why we stopped using dual scimitars, as these seem like they would be wonderful to wield!" 

"This is a good discovery. Far better than most artifacts," Ganondorf agreed. Most of the old weapons they found were hopelessly rusted or otherwise destroyed, to the point they were beyond useless for battle or history. 

He shifted more of the fallen stones, hoping for another prize, but unfortunately there was nothing else but dust. 

Though they scoured several more hallways and cells, all they discovered was boring: a torn wallet with a few meager rupees clinging inside, a small, unrecognizable statue that was likely of a long dead chief or heroine, and a third lizalfos. Ganondorf managed to defeat this one without issue or assistance. Near the lizalfos stood one of the many exits. Besides the crumbling door frame rested a deep alcove. With only a bit of consideration and a large amount of annoyance, he examined the niche. A bundle of arrows lay within, their tips freezing to the touch. He kept them, although they were mostly unexciting; the Gerudo still knew how to make Ice Arrows.

They exited the interior of the ruins onto a terrace two stories above the ground. As he stepped out, dirt and pebbles loosened and slid to the ground below. In the past, the platform may have been twice as large as it was now. Today, Kasout had to remain in the entryway to avoid crowding the narrow space.  
The fiery sun was slowly sinking in the sky, and he could easily make out the horses and Ungoam, still standing watch. The plan had been to meet at the entrance at sunset, and he was already beginning to tire of these ruins. His excursions usually lasted five days: one day to reach the ruins, three days to explore and battle, one day to return to Gerudo Town. But this place was picked over. _Every_ place was picked over. There wasn't anywhere in the desert he hadn't been before, and he was growing sick of it. 

"Would you follow me?" he asked, startling Kasout in her place behind him. 

"What do you mean, My Lord?"

"If it came to a decision between Faukuri and me, who would you obey? If I decided to ignore her, and declare myself king right now, would I be your ruler before her? Would all the Gerudo see it that way?" he continued, not looking at her. 

Kasout took a long time to respond, and when she did, her words were slow. "Faukuri has led the Gerudo for many years, and has been around for many years before then. She was there when I began training as a warrior, offering encouragement to all of us. She was there for my mother when her inn failed. She was even there for my grandmother, when she traveled to Hyrule in her younger days. Faukuri has always been around, and she's always been part of the Gerudo, and has always guided and supported us well." She took a breath, clearly noticing Ganondorf's frustration at her praise and sensing the danger of continuing. But she did continue. "You may be destined to be our king by a near forgotten tradition, but you have never been part of us as Faukuri was and is. Fate gives you power, but that cannot destroy past ties. If you ask me, or my friends, or anyone around town who holds their loyalty, I don't think it's much of a competition. I'm sorry, My Lord."

Ganondorf said nothing. He'd known her answer, of course. It was why he had not challenged Faukuri when she'd denied him his right. It was why he remained silent and pretended to agree with her foolish, nonsensical schemes. 

"But it doesn't matter," Kasout apparently wasn't finished. "Why should we ever have to choose between you?"

"What do you mean?" Ganondorf demanded, finally casting a glare in her direction. 

"A king and a chief are not the same role. There's no reason we cannot have both, and no reason there should be conflict between you two. I don't believe much will change once you 'officially become king'. What is there to change?" 

He stared at her, bewildered. "There is everything to change." The Gerudo - no, the _world_ \- was bound to change once he gained his place as ruler. It wasn't a question, it was an indisputable fact, ingrained within him in a certainty that provided no space for doubt. How, exactly, the world would change was vague and unanswered, but the idea that anyone could believe it would continue as before was incomprehensible. Besides, the concept of him and Faukuri getting along and ruling besides one another was laughable, anyone who witnessed her disdain of him could see that.

Kasout did not argue, but the disagreement shone within her eyes. Ganondorf sighed and turned away once again. Hulel and Neratu had joined Ungoam and the horses. 

Becoming 'part of the Gerudo', as though he weren't already part of them. It was his destiny to lead, why should he have to waste time endearing himself to people that were bound to follow him? If Faukuri weren't around, he wouldn't have a problem. From what he could see, he had two paths to help destiny along, and one seemed endlessly preferable to the other. But either would take time. For now, he had two days to burn and stories to make. He began to lead Kasout back through the ruin towards the entrance, where he would announce their surprise trip into Molduga territory. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who (still) cares about this project, I'm really sorry it took so long to post. I really struggled to get excited about this chapter, and I think I let the first "section" of this fanfic drag on a bit too long. Good news is, I can finally get into the second "section", which I am currently more excited for, though somewhat unsure how well I'll write it. Also, theoretically I should have more time to write over the next few weeks, assuming I can stop being a procrastinating idiot for the first ten hours of each day.   
> Thank you for reading! I think author's notes are slightly annoying, but I want to somewhat explain myself and let you know that I do not intend to ever have a full month wait between chapters again.


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